


Captain America Knows What You Do Online

by becisvolatile



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Bad Sex, Clint's neighbours suck, Darcy and Steve aren't getting their security deposit back, F/M, Rough Sex, Snooping, Spanking, light Ds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-12
Updated: 2014-05-12
Packaged: 2018-01-24 10:48:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1602335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/becisvolatile/pseuds/becisvolatile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jesus was hardly weeping for the state of her sex life. It wasn't even that bad and so what if, from time to time, she felt more like a jockey than a consenting adult making love to the world's most desirable man (two years running)?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Captain America Knows What You Do Online

**Author's Note:**

> Written to fill an anon prompt: 'They've been dating for only a very short time but Steve is being really careful with her. (He isn't going to fuck up this relationship)...but he is careful and Darcy is fed up, she pushes and brings out Steve's dominant side.'
> 
> I've played a little fast and loose with the prompt, but I think the spirit of it is still there.
> 
> If snooping boyfriends make you uncomfortable, give this a miss.

Darcy was on top. Again. 

Yay. 

Okay, so it wasn't like it was the end of the world that her boyfriend - Captain _Freakin'_ America - had certain, set in stone, preferences in bed. Jesus was hardly weeping for the state of her sex life. It wasn't even that bad and so what if, from time to time, she felt more like a jockey than a consenting adult making love to the world's most desirable man (two years running)? There were worse fates. She _knew_. Their lives had boiled down to juggling a stunning array of worst case scenarios and putting out SHIELD and Hydra's various spot fires. She was just lucky she'd been invited to join Stark's heroic party bus. 

Really, she had to be the world's shittiest girlfriend. How else was she going to explain the way that she was becoming increasingly un-wowed as she rode sweet, gorgeous Steve and watched his brain scramble as he clutched their sheets in his white-knuckled grip and let his back bow as he came with a throaty cry. Besides, it wasn't like she didn't know how to take care of herself. 

Later, when she could feel the sweat cooling on his chest and his cock twitching inside of her, he pulled her down into a soft kiss (always soft, _only_ soft) and rocked his hips a little. 

"Honey, did you...?" It was infuriating that after months together, he still couldn't even say it. Coming with Steve had become a bit hit and miss (not like those first few times, when just looking at him did the job). Still, Darcy was pretty sure it was a felony to lie to Captain America. Instead, she scrambled off him, pressed her fingers between her legs to staunch the trickle of his come and punched him heartily in the shoulder with her spare hand. 

"You did great, champ," she said with a wonky smile as she backed into the bathroom. 

~*~ 

Steve wasn't snooping. He _wasn't_. He was Captain America and, thusly, it was called _reconnoitring_. 

Natasha and Bucky would be proud and even if it made him highly uncomfortable, some things were just too important to not have all the relevant facts. 

Darcy had been far too cagey over the past couple of weeks... well, in bed. Everywhere else was Darcy doing what Darcy did best - which had come as a surprise to everyone - since few people had reckoned on Foster's plus-one having any usable skills. Stark had closed ranks and amassed his forces at the Avenger's Tower, Hydra had an army and they were building theirs. For weeks she'd just been underfoot, cornering anyone who moved too slowly. Steve had proven a favourite for her, mostly because he was always polite enough to at least let her start talking, even if it had taken him a while to learn the value of what she was saying. 

_Listen, I've got this ex. He's in prison, but I think he can help with-_ Not interested. 

_I know where we can get a bunch of juiced up tasers on the cheap for-_ Not helpful, Lewis. 

_There's these kids, they did a pamphlet drop today. About Hydra. They can help._ It's not a great time, Darcy. 

_Cap, those kids. They're onto something. People need to know. They're called the White Rose and-_ Wait. Say that again? 

Darcy and Skye had a knack for recruiting bright, young (and naturally suspicious) things. They were out of the tower that morning working their magic (and buying Starbucks for) an Apple 'Genius' that Darcy swore had technokinetic powers. She was usually right about that sort of stuff and, as long as Ward and an assortment of other agents were within response range, he'd learned to let her do her part. Who was he to tell someone they couldn't fight based on their physical capabilities? 

Point being: he had a good stretch of time before Darcy was due home and he wasn't going to waste it, so it was absolutely not an accident (or _snooping_ ) when he settled down on the sofa in their Stark-funded apartment and started to sift through emails on Darcy's tablet. He was looking for anything and everything: medical results, family emails, subscriptions to dating sites (he felt a little sick when he considered that possibility). Nothing stood out. 

"Have you tried her browser history?" 

Steve damn near dropped the tablet in his haste to stuff it under a cushion. His head snapped up to find Natasha leaning in the doorway, arms crossed loosely. 

"I wasn't-" 

"Sure you weren't." She pushed away from the door frame and turned back into the corridor. " _Browser history_. If you've got questions... no, actually. Don't come to me. Go to Tony, I think he's into that stuff." 

~*~ 

Darcy stumbled over Steve's shield as she let herself into their apartment. She paused for a second to drop her bag and shuck hers shoes, scarf and coat, before stooping to prop it back up beside the door. She smiled as she traced her finger over the red edge of the shield. Any night that he wasn't out fighting was a good night, she'd forgotten that. What did the odd bout of mediocre sex with a too-gentle lover matter, when compared to nights spent curled up against a guy with a heart bigger than Phar Lap? 

"Seriously, you keep leaving that there and I _will_ bedazzle it." Darcy threw her keys onto a side table and moved toward their small kitchenette. She stopped short when she spotted Steve propped against their tempered glass dining table, a shiny green apple tumbling from hand to hand as he watched her in the dimmed light. He was barefoot in a pair of khaki trousers and a white button down. She loved how he looked no matter what he wore, but Darcy had to admit that the old school threads did him a certain amount of justice that jeans did not. 

Something was up. Steve was nervous, but in that way whereby he tried _so hard_ not to look nervous that he actually looked a bit crazed. "Steve?" she moved toward him. 

He made a very obvious show of holding the apple aloft, it looked tiny and perfect in his fingers. He sat it on the far edge of their dining table and pointed to it. "I... I got a thing I think I need to do for us, Darce. Well, I hope I do. But if it's not working for you, if you're unhappy, or if you want it to stop, you just knock this apple off the table and we'll stop, we'll reset and then we'll talk." 

Darcy started at the apple as he pulled the nearest chair out from behind the table and pushed it away, leaving that side of the table bare. "Remember the apple?" He asked as he reached out for her hand. Of course she remembered, he'd _just_ explained it. 

"Apple. Got it." 

Steve was careful as he took the hand that he held and flattened it against the dining table, just a little to the left of the apple. He ran his hand along her other arm as he lifted it and placed her hand on the opposite side of the apple, so that her hands framed it. 

"Bend over the table, Honey," he murmured, his lips passing over the shell of her ear as his hand ran up her spine, pressing her forward. 

Darcy felt a little soft at the knees, she tried to suppress a nervous grin as he centred himself behind her. She couldn't say for certain what was about to happen, but she had a rough idea. 

It looked like Christmas was coming early. 

...and, with a little luck, so was she. 

~*~ 

She hadn't run screaming. Which was nice. 

Steve took a second while she was faced away, her fingernails tapping the tempered glass top of the table, to run a shaking hand over his face. He'd spent part of the morning trawling through her viewing history, pleasantly surprised with what he'd found. No mass orgies, no gerbils. Just a collection of scenarios that had shown exactly what his poor Darcy needed from him and, if the state of his dick was anything to go on, it was something he needed to give her. 

If only she'd told him sooner. He had the strongest impulse to put her over his knee for her reticence. Convenient, since her tastes apparently ran that way. 

Her hips were warm and familiar as he filled his hands with them, lingering and indulging himself with the feel of her for just a few moments, before slipping around to unbuckle her belt. He was rough when he grabbed it and yanked it free of the belt loops on her jeans. Her hips jerked in response, the belt cracking as he whipped it away. Steve watched her then, breath caught in his throat as he waited for her to send the apple tumbling to the floor. Instead, she quietly regained her position at the table, a short, shuddery breath escaping through her lips. 

"Darce," he was back to stroking her hips as he spoke, "Before we... uh. There's just a thing I have to own up to." 

"Now?" Her palms flattened against the table. 

"I, uh, I looked at your browser history." As he spoke, he began to knead her hips with firm hands. 

Her shoulders started to quake and for one horrible moment he worried that she was crying, then a hoot of laughter shot through the kitchen. "That's it?" She dropped her voice. " _Captain America knows what you do online!_ " 

Steve let his silence convey his confusion. 

"You don't know it?" She turned back to look at him with a grin. "It was this whole ad campaign in the early 2000s, trying to scare people off illegally downloading stuff. I mean the campaign tanked and I'm sure this wasn't what they had in mind but..." She let the words trail off into a throaty laugh. 

"I broke your trust." 

She sobered up a little at that, pressed her lips together as her eyes darted to the right. "Would... would you feel better if I said I sent a naked photo of you to Jane last week? You were asleep and it was just the back. It was for science. Probably." 

He narrowed his eyes at her, fingertips digging into her hips. 

"Well, maybe it was more a quid pro quo deal. Y'know, since I'd already seen Thor's-" Something on his face must have cut short the thought. "Never mind." 

If she was trying to earn her punishment, she was doing a damn good job. 

"Okay," she said with a wiggle of the hips, "We're a couple with digital privacy issues. In the 'pro' column, you've never shot me. So we're already ahead of Natasha and Bucky, right?" 

Steve was trying his hardest not to smile at her but he was failing. He pointed to the table, a gentle reminder for her to turn back around and place her hands on the table. "Apple," he reminded her. 

"Apple," she confirmed with a nod. 

He focused on getting her jeans off then, undoing and peeling the tight denim down her thighs as he dropped to his knees and tapped her ankles until she stepped free. Steve stood back up, trailing his fingers along her legs as he moved, pausing to nip at the full curve of her bottom as he passed. The hot pink lace-trimmed thong was a favourite of his, just another thing that the 21st century was doing right. He was careful as he rolled the thin strip of fabric down her hips, pausing at a preplanned point on her thighs. 

Steve slipped his foot between hers and kicked out abruptly, spreading her legs until the point where her panties trapped them. Bent forward as she was, it left her bare to his gaze, but he had no intentions of hedging around his own desires this time. Darcy wanted him to take command and he was. He dropped to his haunches and tucked his thumbs into the creases below her bottom as his fingers spanned the tops of her thighs. When he turned out his hands he opened her fully for his perusal. Her skin, possibly also her face, flushed the same sweet pink as her pussy and he grinned. There was something archaic and proprietary about staring at her like that, something in his makeup that demanded he fuck her until she knew only his name. Steve had suppressed that instinct before, dismissed it as aberrant and dangerous. Tiny, lovely Darcy needed care and love. She needed gentle lover's words and soft lovemaking... 

... what she _wanted_ was something else entirely. 

How Steve had come to be so lucky, he'd never quite know. What he did know was that he was done disappointing her. 

His eyes slipped to the apple, but it was still there, nestled in the diamond shape that she was making as she pressed her thumbs and forefingers together. His heart kicked up a notch as he returned his attention to Darcy. The neat furl of her labia parted for him and the deep pink place between grew wetter beneath his scrutiny. He leaned in to nuzzle her with his nose, then gave her one long self-indulgent lick, enough to get the taste of her on his tongue. Beneath his hands her thighs shook as she tried to spread them further for him, but found herself confined by the lace digging into her soft skin. Steve's grip on her thighs tightened as he leaned in even closer and trapped one slick pink fold between his lips, worrying at it as she mewled, pressed her hips back and came up up onto her toes. Her hot little cunt rubbed against his cheekbone, leaving a slick of desire there. 

The first warning spank was a shock to them both. For Darcy, because it was unexpected. For Steve, because her yelp of shock shot up his spine and had him gently petting the red welt on her cheek. "Darcy, I-" 

"Don't you _dare_ apologise, Rogers. It was just a shock. A good one." She pressed herself back again, an offer too good to refuse. He stepped up to her, hand dropping between her spread legs, fingers slipping either side of her clit as he squeezed oh-so-gently. A litany of filth danced on his tongue, stilted imitations of the dirty talk sprouted by the actors in Darcy's porn. He wanted to give her that, wanted to calm her with the wicked parley of a master reassuring his pet that he would care for her, that her pleasure was his aim. 

Instead, he just sort of squeaked, "Have you been naughty, Darcy?" 

Darcy tried, and failed, to cover up her snort. Steve landed a cautionary swat on her other arse cheek. 

"Sorry! _Sorry!_ " Darcy said with just the hint of a giggle. "You just sound so... lost." 

He let out a frustrated sigh, "This is a steep learning curve, Darcy. Cut me some slack." 

"You're picking it up like a pro," she coaxed, pressing her lush behind back against his straining fly, "Just maybe... say what you're thinking." 

Steve took a moment to unbutton his shirt, gather his thoughts. Beneath him, Darcy still had her shirt and bra on, so he quickly took care of those too, recovering a little of his swagger when she gasped as he pressed her full breasts against the cold glass. 

"Why did you lie this morning when I asked if you'd come?" He asked softly as his fingers ghosted over the plump lips of her pussy, not quite touching her. 

She fidgeted and grew breathless at just the suggestion of his touch, but paused when she answered. "I didn't _lie_." 

The next spank was well deserved, his full palm slapped across her arse and her throaty cry had his pressing his hard dick up against her hip. "A lie of omission is still-" 

"Yeah, yeah." 

Another spank, this one was a little more on centre and as she rocked up onto her toes her let his fingers lick up against her heated lips, rubbing and soothing. "I was _talking_." 

The next swat was softer, but directed exactingly at her cunt. Her cry shot straight through him. As Steve licked his fingers clean, eager to taste the proof of her enjoyment, his attention was drawn to a shuffling noise the corridor outside their apartment. The walls were relatively sound-resistant, the doors were not. A few silent beats passed before their listener moved on. Steve could have sworn he heard Darcy mutter ' _hot_ '. 

"Done talking?" Darcy asked with a roll of the spine and Steve spared a moment to be glad that his girl wasn't blindly obedient, just in need of _all_ that he had to offer. 

Steve dipped at the knees, fingers yanking at her panties and ripping them at one side so that they slipped down to one ankle, forgotten. Another gentle kick and her legs were spread wider. In the drive to please Darcy, Steve hadn't spared much consideration for his own desires. He was hard, so something was clearly working for him, right? But looking down at Darcy, her hips pressed into the table and her pussy bare and ready for him - _only him_ \- he realised that he was developing a distinct enthusiasm for Darcy's carnal quirks. He was pretty pleased with himself when just the sound of him lowering his fly was enough to wrest a moan from her, so he pushed his briefs low and rewarded her by rubbing the seeping head of his cock back and forward over her clit as her hips bucked and rolled. Steve fought through his own mounting desperation and sensitivity as he let the topside of his dick drag through across her tight little clit and through the wet spread of her cunt. 

"Steve!" Darcy sobbed and he felt that he'd adequately stepped up to the plate, at least for now. His shirt draped around them both as he leaned over her, pumping his fist along the length of his cock once, twice, before pressing against Darcy and riding her slick heat until he was balls deep and his hands were full of her hips. He flexed his hips tentatively, testing her, and her little frustrated huff told him all he needed to know. How had he never listened to her, to her body, like this before? How was it that he'd been so caught up on not hurting her that he'd been gentle to the point of not even pleasing her? 

The next thrust had the table hopping a few inches across the floor as the legs screeched against the tiles in protest. Darcy choked out a shocked little laugh, moaned "God, yes, _Steve_ ," and pushed her hips back further. The control must have gone to his head, because he took a second to reach down and grab her right knee, lifting and turning it out until it was perched on the table and her only contact with the floor was one arched foot. It wasn't a stable position for her, but for Steve that was the appeal. He had his hands firmly on her hips and he was going to _take care_ of her. 

He let go then, not of her but of himself. It was a rough and sweaty stretch of time and they fucked until the table was up against the wall and ( _fuck, please let Barton and his shit eating grin be home_ ) Darcy was coming around his cock with hoarse screams. He didn't slow though, he just flicked his eyes to the apple. Steve panicked as he watched it teeter on the edge of the table, but even fuck drunk Darcy was able to make a grab for it and clutch it in her hands, pink nails digging into the gleaming skin until droplets of juice started to well. 

Steve _loved_ that apple. 

Beneath him, Darcy was wet enough that the _filthy_ sounds of their bodies played out as they moved. She tried to move her hips, even though finding purchase to push back was difficult, and Steve knew he wouldn't stop until she'd come again. He had that morning's failure to make up for, after all. 

"Come again," he grunted as his hips slammed forward. Sweat dripped down his chest, stung his eyes, but he wasn't done. 

"Nooo..." Darcy was perilously close to whining. 

"You asked for this, Honey," Steve reminded her as his fingers slipped beneath her hip and sought her clit, "You got your apple, Darce. Drop it if you need to." 

If anything, she drew it in a little tighter. 

"Otherwise," Steve boasted as he punctuated each word with a sharp jerk of the hips, "I. Can. Do. This. All. Day." 

With that, he was back to slamming the table up against the wall, fingers glancing over her clit as he moved. Darcy's breaths were coming quicker and it was a damn good thing, because while he liked to think he could keep it up all day, he was probably being a little optimistic. When he felt the pull of her body he gave himself over to his own climax and savoured the sweet press of her behind against his hips as he came. 

As they came down together, Darcy's flanks twitching against his thighs, he let his hands roam over her skin, soft and comforting because finally it _was_ the time for a little gentleness. Steve dipped his knees as he withdrew from her, his cock falling thick and spent against his thigh as he let his hands trace over the red marks on her arse, the sweet swollen lips of her pussy, and down to her slick inner thighs. His hands moved back up to her hips, turning her to face him. 

Darcy clutched the mauled apple tightly against her chest and Steve smiled down at her as he eased it from her fingers and set it aside. 

"Okay?" He asked softly. 

"Yeah," Darcy mumbled as she dropped her face against his chest and wrapped her arms around his waist, "You did _great_ , champ." 

That time, Steve was fairly confident that she meant it.

**Author's Note:**

> Darcy's reference to the White Rose is a throwback to a Third Reich era group of young adult activists who sought to raise public awareness about injustices carried out by the Nazi party. The founding members were executed at a very young age. I like to think Steve would have been aware of them and that the formation of a new White Rose group would have seemed significant to him.


End file.
